A Garden View

(Updated June 18, 2023)

Blessings In The Garden

                                                                              by: B. Marie Jarreau 

         Sun’s Kiss

A sunbeam came streaming   

Lilac Ladies by BMJ

   Through the clouds.
           She dances
        Touching petunias and
             Kissing pretty roses,

         Coaching stems to reach and rise  

             And blossom toward the skies -

                All this to the pleasure

                  Of a gardener’s eyes.

                                                    

      Gribble - Grubble

      Gribbly, grubbly
                    Grainy sand.
                    A loam of earthy,
                                Deep, dark soil.
                                  It’s nature’s
                                           Nursing,
                                                         Nesting hand
                                                             Let's grow something!
                                                                                                                      

Sunday Morning Garden Shower

                    Listen;
            It’s water falling from the sky,
               Reaching for the rivers as they
                    Run down,
                        Again and
                             Again
                    Drip, drop, droplets:
                                  Rain.

                         

Leaflets from Above

Lumps of lemon yellow,
Bushels of bronze and browns,
 Tans and reds and orange, too
And a leafy handful of gold.
Leaflets leave
Their now bare trees
And again
      The Autumn story’s told.

                                          

Last of the Fallen Leaves

Four leaf,

Three leaf,
Two leaf,
One.
Last one down
Gets to bask on top in the
Soft, gold
  Autumn sun.
                     

For The Quiet Ones

(Updated June 18, 2023)

Shy Ones Grow Up Too

                            B. Marie Jarreau

When she was a very young girl

She said ‘nothing’

To everyone she met.

She chose to save her precious words

For older wiser days

When her thoughts were

Stronger yet.

Some laughed and mocked a girl so small,

Called her ‘dumb’ and pulled her hair

And said,

“She has no tongue at all.”

She kept quite silent

Through her youthful years.

Then like a spirit awake

Words and images began to flow from her heart

As water from a stream to a lake.

As she grew, she had listened

To people, to birds, to owls and Earth

And she’d learned many things,

Yet saved her own thoughts

Till she knew their own worth.

Like a bud as it opens to flower,

Her words fresh and vibrant

Like a nurturing summer shower.

Ideas and opinions and bright illustrations

From her hands and soul sprang forth.

Songs and soliloquies surged from her heart.

Pictures, words, melodies and more,

She would express her life through her art.

No longer silent,

No longer small.

A once shy little girl

Now shares her stories

With listeners around the world.

                                                       

Marie Jarreau ©11/2010

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